


A Brief Encounter

by dreamingofdragons



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: F/M, Female EXO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 23:44:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15035912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingofdragons/pseuds/dreamingofdragons
Summary: A chance encounter in an elevator with Exo's Lay is perhaps the best thing to happen to you, possibly ever. When that elevator breaks and the temperature starts rising in more ways than one let's see if Lay's moves are just as legendary in a confined space.





	A Brief Encounter

“Thank you for your time. You’ll hear from us shortly.”

I was filled with the urge to start babbling frantically. What did that mean? Had I performed well in the interview or completely embarrassed myself? Would I be hearing from them soon because I’d been so dreadful that they’d already decided not to hire me or done well enough that they were contemplating that they might? And the panel weren’t giving me any clues, either: all three of them wearing polite, coolly unreadable expressions. I wilted and fought the urge to wipe my sweaty palms on my brand-new skirt: bought especially for the interview. The biggest interview I’d ever had in my life. My usual style was more along the lines of skinny jeans, Converse and pretty tops but I was applying for a job at SM Entertainment here. This might be the start of the career of my dreams, and unfortunately that meant sheer hose beneath my charcoal grey skirt with its pretty little matching jacket and a crisp white blouse beneath. And don’t even get me started on the shoes: it had been so long since I’d dressed up in a truly feminine fashion that I had the horrible feeling I was staggering around like a lumberjack in drag.

“Thank you for your kindness.” I said instead, bowing politely. My time to impress them had passed. The only thing I could do now was leave gracefully and save myself from them thinking I was a total lunatic.

 

I tip-tapped in my new and excruciatingly painful high heels out of the office and down the corridor. The elevator led from the admin office suits at the top of the SM Entertainment building. I had no reason at all to be anywhere near the artists’ floors and my inner fangirl gave a groan of disappointment. For the briefest moment when I got my letter inviting me to interview I had fantasised about bumping into, say, SHINee’s Onew at the water dispenser and the superstar idol immediately realising I was exactly what had been missing all his life. Smiling at the thought I pressed the button for the elevator and limped inside when it arrived. Maybe fate would come into play anyway? Maybe if Onew and I were truly meant to be he’d be coming through the lobby when I was leaving and some freak accident would happen like, say, my heel breaking and I’d fall gracefully and his reflexes would be things of wonder – despite all evidence to the contrary – and he’d catch me and…  
“Wait! Hey.. wait for just a second! Please!”  
Jerked most rudely from my delightful fantasy; eyes widening when I saw the young man dashing down the corridor I panicked and slammed the button forcing the doors back open far harder than I should have. The elevator gave a distressed-sounding whine but obediently jerked to a halt and the man threw himself past the doors like he was being chased by werewolves. I looked at him in shock, peering past him just to check that a hideously furry and toothy beast wasn’t also about to throw itself into here with us.  
“Ooof! Sorry, sorry! I stayed longer than I should have and now I’m so late!”  
The young man explained, laughing. “You look scared to death. I didn’t mean to startle you.”  
He spoke Korean oddly, like it wasn’t his native accent. It was charming. Hell, he was charming! That smile should come with a health warning; something along the lines of “Caution: observe from a distance due to high risk of immediately having your panties burst into flames,” should do it. I got the general impression of short, inky black hair and that dazzling smile before I looked away.  
“No problem.”  
I replied shyly. “Which floor?”  
“Third, please.”  
Third floor. I pressed the button and then felt my forehead furrow. I’d hardly staked out the place, but I had received a map when I had arrived and I’m sure I remembered that the dance studios were on the third floor.  
“So what if they are?”  
I chided myself. “The man works here. He’ll have business there.”  
Still, I was curious now. Regarding him from beneath my lashes I felt my heart skip a beat for a far nicer reason than interview panic. Good grief, he was painfully handsome. His skin was the alabaster white so prized in Asian society: a beautiful colour like heavy cream with a touch of rich, sweet honey and the lustre of raw silk. His bone structure so immaculate he might have been manufactured rather than born like the rest of us lowly mortals and his hair was as black as a spill of ink; crackling with life and health; tumbling over his high, smooth forehead. The shades covered a lot, unfortunately: they were fashionable enormous and completely obscured his eyes.  
“Nice shades.”  
I offered and then cringed so hard I almost doubled up on myself.  
Why the hell are you talking to him! And why the hellish hell of all seven hells are you saying something so completely inane?!  
But his mouth curved upwards enough to flash the deep dimple in his right cheek. A dimple? Oh, now that was just unfair. Like the man wasn’t packing some serious divine weaponry as it was.  
“Thank you.”  
He said simply in that heavenly smooth, accented voice. “You like Armani?”  
What the hells did I know about designer clothing? Sometimes I struggled to afford Uniqlo! What I was wearing was the nicest outfit I’d ever owned, and I was under no illusions that it looked in any way high class. Still, he hadn’t asked me if I owned Armani, just if I liked it.  
“Their new season has some lovely items.”  
This time my cringe was so full-on I almost curled up into a ball. Their new season has some lovely items? Some lovely items? Oh, dear sweet Lord just kill me now. I’m too pathetic to live! Unfortunately, I was far too not-dead and could clearly see the way his mouth curved suddenly sharply upwards and his dimple became deep enough to swim in. Hot Guy was amused. A pity it was at me.  
“It does.”  
He agreed gravely. Giving him a sickly smile I turned my attention to the pretty marble floor and resolved not to look at him for the rest of the descent. He was clearly far too attractive to actually look at. For the good of my remaining brain cells I really should direct my eyes elsewhere.

 

I blame it on the fact that he really was that stupendously good looking that it took my frazzled brain as long as it did to connect memory with the drool-inducingly flawless man that was now sharing a confined space with me. To be fair I had lived a very ordinary life up to that point and was so used to my steamy fantasies dying a death in relative mundanity that the living, breathing, physical fantasy currently standing next to me took a while to register. Bzzzzzzt: Brain cells fired to an image of a deep dimple. Bzzzzzzzzt: the flawless dancer’s body shown off perfectly in those black jeans and striped sweater. The golden brown and black wool showing off just how perfectly broad his shoulders were and how very flat his stomach. Bzzzzzzzt: the tumble of black hair into onyx eyes that I suddenly realised I knew exactly what they looked like; shades or not. Because I knew him.  
“Lay!”  
I yelped, and he jumped like I’d just electrocuted him with a fair-sized cattle prod. Fair enough, my voice had risen to a pitch that only dogs could hear. I looked at him wildly: hardly believing my own eyes. “Exo… Exo Lay!”  
A look somewhere between weary resignation and a gentle sweetness settled on his beautiful face before he smiled and bowed briefly.  
“Zhang Yixing. I’m pleased to meet you.”  
Not nearly as pleased as I was, I could already tell, but then I was probably not the stuff that his filthily indecent fantasies used to get off at night. Most likely he’d never printed out a picture of me wearing nothing but tight black trousers and an opened shirt with a blindfold and used it to ruin himself for other women entirely. Oh hell, I didn’t deserve to get the job here. Probably it was just as well I’d found out now. It would have been too humiliating to be fired for gross professional misconduct on the first day if I bumped into one of my epic biases like Onew or Donghae or goddammit, Lay and had to be prised off them with a crowbar before being swiftly ejected from the building and told in no uncertain terms never to come back.  
“I’m a fan.”  
I said miserably: ever the Queen of the screamingly obvious. Lay smiled gently.  
“You’re too kind.”  
Look away. You’ve already embarrassed yourself enough. Look away now!

 

I was only about three seconds into contemplating my shoes and wondering if they had actually sawn my toes off or if it just felt that way when the elevator shook so forcefully that I was thrown into the wall. My startled yelp merged with Lay’s shocked curse in Mandarin and then the elevator shook again: this time forcefully enough that I was half thrown off my feet. I gave a cry of fear, stumbling on my twice-damned elegant high heels. Gripping the bar at waist level Lay instinctively steadied me; wrapping an arm around my waist. There was a screech of distressed machinery so loud and high-pitched that we both covered our ears with pained shouts and then… silence. For a moment all that could be heard was our hectic, panicked breathing and we looked at each other shakily, beginning to smile in mutual relief and amusement. And then the lights went out. I gasped, my hand tightening on whatever part of the man next to me that I’d grabbed tightly hold of and he pulled me hard against him in response.  
“What the hell…?”  
He whispered, sounding shaken. It was pitch black in that lift; utterly devoid of all light and with the recycled, slightly dry air I began to tremble helplessly as I pictured nothing less than being buried alive. “Shush. Shush.” Lay’s voice deepened, becoming soothing and reassuring. My hands clamped so tightly onto his sweater that my fingers were becoming numb. “It’s alright, just a small maintenance problem.”  
“That sound…!”  
If he sounded like the shock had turned him into Superman then I’d gone embarrassingly girly in contrast. I like to think of myself as a modern, very capable young woman but put me in a pitch black enclosed box and the strong possibility that we were about to plummet to a squishy death and I was remembering every disaster movie about elevators that I’d ever watched. Burying my face against his soft sweater I tried to hyperventilate as quietly as I could. His hand rubbed comfortingly up and down my back.  
“Nothing bad will happen, beyond this.”  
Lay said as gently and reassuringly as if he was talking to a small child, doing nothing to unclench the fists that must be making a ragged mess out of his expensive woollens. “We are here together, and it is easier to be brave when you have somebody, no?”  
Oh mister, in so many ways but let’s not get onto that depressing subject. Still, he was right. His calm was beginning to settle my galloping heartrate and at least I could take a breath now without feeling like I was going to pass out. Soothed enough in fact that I suddenly realised exactly who I was pressed up against. Strange that until then I’d just thought him tall without any more thought about it or how my shorter, softer curves related to his hard lines. He was taller than I was by a few inches even in the heels; broad shouldered even if he was still extremely slender and the fashionable woollen sweater he was wearing smelled faintly of a scent that was somehow oranges and cinnamon and sunshine.  
“It’s so dark.”  
I said shakily and felt rather than saw him nod in agreement. Keeping his arm around me he began to grope along the wall.  
“There are measures in place…an emergency call button… if I could just… Ah!”  
Lay edged us both towards the doors. “Here’s the control panel! Ah, such a thing as I’ve seen so many times, but I cannot remember where it is.”  
“Press anything.”  
I suggested. “Press everything!”  
I assumed that he did as I suggested, feeling the muscles in his back shift and suddenly a dim, greenish light illuminated the elevator. I gave a sobbing gasp of relief and even the supposedly serene Lay huffed out a breath, eyes closing for a moment before he gave me the shy, sweet smile that I knew so well.  
“Well, that was exciting.”  
He murmured, and I gave a snort of laughter, sagging briefly against him and drawing a final, nostalgic breath before peeling myself away from him.

 

I eased myself off his divine-smelling body and shuffled a couple of steps away from him. The emergency button was red and Lay pushed it firmly. A bright, female voice answered after a tense moment and Lay began to speak. “Ah… hello. The lift stopped suddenly, and we aren’t moving…”  
“Please state your problem and we will be with you as soon as we can!”  
The automated voice chirruped breezily. “In the meantime, please relax and wait for one of our operators.”  
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!”  
Lay exclaimed incredulously. In the fey green light his eyes were huge, and I gazed back at him in mounting concern and surprise that the usually beautifully-tempered idol even knew how to curse, let alone letting it rip when he was supposedly so peachy keen.  
“Please relax.”  
The woman cooed as though they had anticipated such a response. “One of our operators will be with you shortly.”  
“And you’d better believe I will have a lot to say to him when he does.”  
Lay growled.

 

We sat on the slick, marble-effect floor and leant back against the walls of the elevator. Along with the death of all movement and normal lightning I have to assume that the air-con had gone pffffffft as well because it was getting seriously damn hot in here. My hair had been arranged in as elegant a twist as I could manage and now I felt tendrils beginning to stick to my sweaty forehead and droop like a depressed snowdrop.  
“Urrrgh!”  
I groaned, removing my jacket and too blissful at the relief to be embarrassed that the white shirt beneath was surely transparent with sweat and creased to hell. Lay was looking at my jacket with an odd sort of longing: his sweaty black hair now hanging into his eyes with no attempt at a style. “Aren’t you hot? You must be, surely? Why don’t you take your sweater off?”  
I suggested: purely out of concern that he had to be melting than any cunning plans to get the guy naked, I swear! He grimaced, looking weirdly shy.  
“I am… underneath? I have nothing… A lady on your own with me, you would be concerned.”  
The man was baking in his own sweater because he thought I’d think he was a marauding sex beast? My heart fluttered and there was a rush of such sweet emotion through my veins that if I bled right now it would be sweet red syrup.  
“The only concerns I have are that you might collapse with heat exhaustion.”  
I replied with some amusement. “Do what you have to do. I won’t think you have any nefarious plots going on.”  
“You’re gracious.”  
Lay groaned and with a haste that was telling about just how swelteringly hot he had been, stretched up and pulled the sweater up over his head. Oh… my… God. It was one thing remembering that Lay had a seriously good physique from the tour DVDs that I owned but seeing it right there in front of my dazed eyes was something else entirely. That creamy white skin looking even softer and more silken than that on his face, and not an ounce of fat on his whole torso. His abs were so defined that might have been drawn on and the way his jeans hung a couple of inches below his belly button made a rush of heat flood through me that had absolutely nothing to do with the lack of cool air in here. Dear sweet Lord, he was the sexiest, most perfect thing I had ever seen. Licking my suddenly dry lips I let my eyes feast on the chunky dancer’s thighs in his skinny jeans, the swelling biceps and the strong column of his throat. Mmmmmm…  
“This is OK?”  
Lay asked, still looking caught between shyness and concern. Well and truly ensnared by sheer lust and disbelief I completely forgot what had last been said and what he actually meant by that question.  
“This is absolutely perfect.”  
I replied dreamily and snapped back to reality when he gave a gasp of laughter.  
“I did mean your worry about being alone with me wearing so little.”  
Lay murmured in clear amusement. “But it seems I do not have to worry.”  
All the blood was sucked up from my body to burn like hellfire in my face. It was a blush of suck epic proportions I must have glowed like a lamp in that dim space.  
“Oh, God.”  
I whimpered, hiding my face behind my hands. Lay laughed softly and I don’t recall ever hearing him sound quite so… male.  
“I don’t mind.”  
Was it me or had his voice dropped by several octaves? Peeping at him from between my fingers I saw that he was leaning against the wall of the elevator, thumbs hooked into his belt loops and black hair tumbling around hot eyes and a smile that turned the temperature up even further. My heartrate accelerated like a Ferrari.  
“You… you don’t?”  
“Fair is fair. I can look at you?”  
Why the hell would you want to? My insecurity screeched. I’m sweaty, surely overweight compared to the women you must see everyday and so very human whereas you’re Lay, for God’s sake! Don’t you get it, you foolish man? You’re Exo’s freaking Lay! Still, if I was to give into my insecurity every time it spoke up, I’d likely never bother to get dressed in the morning or leave the apartment. Sometimes I have to take a leap of faith that despite the demons that whispered into my ears, I have something that even Lay might want to look at. Echoing his position against the wall, I let my hands drop away from my face.  
“Fair is fair.”  
I croaked.

 

I don’t know how long we’d been in there: the airless heat increasing. Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl and warped all out of proportion. It could have been five minutes or five hours. He had nice forearms, I noticed abstractedly: toned with muscle and silken smooth. His hands too were attractive; expressive and elegant with well-manicured nails. I may as well notice such things when conversation had been awkward and stilted, eventually trickling away to nothing. Sighing, Lay straightened out one long leg and let his head fall back.  
“I saw a movie like this once.”  
He commented suddenly and I arched my eyebrows enquiringly. He nodded. “Seems like a popular concept in fact: two people stuck in a lift together end up going at it like animals up against the wall.”  
My jaw dropped and his eyes shot to my face, gold-tinted skin blushing an absolutely scalding crimson. “I’m not propositioning you!” He yelped. “Or even suggesting it might be a good idea…”  
My gasp of laughter was as much from relief as amusement but once I started I couldn’t stop. Oh God he just looked so mortified!  
“Do they get to finish before the lift starts moving again?”  
A reluctant grin curved his lips.  
“With such perfect timing I’ve always wondered if elevators might be driven by sexual energy.”  
I cackled and somehow some tension seemed to ease from our bodies; shifting into more comfortable positions.  
“It makes sense.”  
I mused. “And it explains why large groups of people are never trapped together.”  
“Handsome businessmen leering at sexy secretaries in their short skirts and heels.”  
Lay agreed.  
“Bodies pressed so temptingly close.”  
I added dreamily. He grinned.  
“Is it any wonder that the elevator goes shooting up to the top floor?”  
“Start thinking dirty thoughts, Lay-shhi.”  
I drawled. “I badly want to get out of here.”  
His eyebrows lifted.  
“Dirty thoughts.”  
He mused softly; his onyx eyes suddenly intent. “Like what, I wonder? Like the fact that in that blouse, and the way that it’s a little damp I can see that you have generous breasts and in that bra you’re wearing they look so full and ripe that I’m aching to touch them? Like now you’re sitting down your skirt has ridden up your thighs and for some reason that is making me crazy, beneath that respectable office skirt you’re wearing thigh high stockings?”

 

For a full minute I thought I was having auditory hallucinations caused by lack of oxygen. What he’d said was so unbelievable that my brain was having trouble processing it. And then it did, and my eyes snapped down to my thighs where, sure enough, my skirt had ridden up because when you were permanently in jeans you didn’t have to care about sitting like a lady. And the stockings, oh Christ, the stockings… Bought for an ex-boyfriend in an effort to fire up an unexciting sex life but only worn the once and oh what a waste that was. Why buy hose when they were right there and I was seriously regretting that decision now because I must surely look like a stripper dressing up as a secretary… Only…. Only, if I did then Lay must have something for stripper secretaries because he no longer looked amused. He looked… heated. If it was any other man in the whole world I’d day that he looked more than a little intrigued about my stockings. And yet he was a man and maybe now was one of those times I had to take one of those leaps of faith I’d mentioned earlier? Dropping my fingertips to my knee I ever so lightly ran it up my thigh, the skirt riding up even further as I did so until the lace tops of the stocking was fully revealed: black against creamy skin.  
“It’s like the very best sort of secret.”  
I said softly. “Only I know that while the outside is so very sensible, what I have on beneath is more concerned with… pleasure.”  
Lay’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring; and a flare of liquid heat flashed through me in response.  
“That’s a good secret to have.”  
He commented, and his voice sounded a little huskier than usual. “Although one perhaps I wish I didn’t know. A man should not watch a woman like a desperate schoolboy; dropping pencils to the floor so she might bend over to pick it up and he gets a torturous glimpse.”  
“Oh, I don’t know. What if this woman finds him attractive and might allow the boy to touch?”  
“What if this boy is a man would not be contented with just a touch?”  
He countered; a flush of heat that maybe had nothing to do with the stifling temperatures in here striping his high cheekbones and the sign of his arousal causing a visceral reaction in me.  
“Then his touch should probably be of the quality that invites more.”  
I rasped. Lay flowed like water: the dancer’s grace of him never more evident than now and the strength of him as he pulled me to my feet took me completely by surprise. His elegant hands flattened against the outside of my thighs and slid up; sliding the skirt up with them and ending at my hips. For a second, I honestly thought that my heart was going to explode, it gave such a massive, surging beat and the storming surge of blood that came from it made me lightheaded. His hands on me was a revelation and I put mine over his instinctively to keep them on me: his touch burning a brand until I thought until my dying day I would always be able to feel them there.  
“Your eyes…”  
Lay’s voice had deepened to a feral growl and he licked his lips; a fine tremor running through his hands. “For such a touch. What will they show me if I kiss you?”  
Death. Likely I would never be able to survive such a thing. Still, what a way to go. Running my hands up his sides and higher, to tangle in that sweat-damp, crisp spill of hair I lifted my face to his.  
“Find out?”  
And with a growl that was almost a snarl, he did.

 

Oh God, his lips were some sort of heaven. So full and plump they felt like marshmallows and I was helpless but to touch my tongue to that full pout to see if he tasted just as sweet. Hungry, drugging kisses made his lips red and swollen and when he gave me his tongue to suck on, he tasted inexplicably of apples and almonds. Now that I was holding onto him his hands went exploring, dragging up my ribcage this time: cupping my breasts through the damp and creased white blouse. A gasp escaped from my lips, my back arching and it only pressed me tighter into his body but Jesus Christ nothing had ever felt so good as his hands on my boobs. He watched me with avid, liquid black eyes as I reacted to him, pulling back from my lips for a moment to watch hungrily as his thumbs traced tight circles around my nipples until they were so erect they ached. Breathing raggedly, I pulled his head back down to mine; drugging kisses running one into the other; his tongue lapping against mine like it was lathing those stiffened peaks and a low, desperate moan escaped from my lips. I could feel him now: pressing hard and swollen against the fabric of his jeans and the thought of what he might feel like pressed against me, without that barrier in the way made me squirm and moan softly in arousal. His hands shifted from my breasts to the delicate little pearl buttons on the blouse and he gave me the devil’s smile.  
“Yes?”  
“Yes!”  
I gasped and bit my lip as slowly, painfully slowly his long fingers undid those little buttons until the blouse was hanging like a jacket. He parted the material like he was unveiling a priceless statue and when my human, flesh and blood body was revealed he looked no less like I was something deeply precious. The moment his lips closed around my breast I arched like one caught in an electric current. Clenching in his hair again my hands instinctively dragged his head closer and he growled: beginning to suckle on one of my nipples. His hands were caressing: strong but delicate fingers in contrast to the wet suction of his mouth and they seemed eager to explore. From breasts down to my soft belly and if it had always seemed to soft and pudding-like then Lay seemed to disagree. Around to my back and down to my ass only to physically lift her and drag me closer. Hugging his slim hips now, wide open to feel that rigid arousal pressed where I needed it most and the rasp of rough denim against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs I instinctively ground against him and pleasure streaked through me like lightning. His hands were kneading against my hips like a cat: rhythmic motions that were scrunching the skirt higher and higher up her thighs. When his hands dropped low again they encountered the bare skin of my thighs above the lace tops of the stockings and the beginning of my buttocks before the chaste cotton panties took over and a sound so essentially masculine rumbled from his chest that I had never in my life felt so female. Gripping me in his hands Lay lifted me off him, setting my feet back on the floor as he slithered to his knees in front of me. I looked down at him dazedly, wondering at the craziness of the world that led to Lay of all people kneeling at my feet. Hands curling around the backs of my thighs he pressed his face between them: hot breath against soaked cotton panties and when his tongue dragged slowly and languorously over that wet cotton my knees went weak. He looked up slowly, tongue sliding over his lower lip and eyes half closing like he’d tasted something delicious.  
“Yes?”  
He asked again and even though he was the one kneeling in supplication I had no doubt whatsoever who was in control of the situation right now.  
“Yes.”  
I said tremulously and holding my eyes all the while his thumbs hooked over the fragile elastic of my virginal white panties and slowly, slowly dragged them down. The anticipation building, the cotton drag of my underwear as it progressed down my legs was almost desperately pleasurable. Trembling now as I realised that I was completely vulnerable to him I stilled him with a hand on his shoulder as my underwear pooled at her feet.  
“Wait! I… I feel insecure. You’re still far too dressed!”  
A ghost of his usual mischievous grin curved his lips upwards.  
“Never let it be said that I’ll leave a lady feeling insecure.”  
He drawled and sitting back on his heels, painfully slowly he unsnapped the button of his skinny jeans and sloooooooowly drew down the zipper. Breathing shallowly with sheer lust, my eyes glued to him as he rose up onto his knees and eased the clinging denim down his thighs. He was wearing a pair if brief black underwear beneath, maybe for the line of the jeans and the way he filled them made me lick my lips and try not to pant like a dog. Kicking them off across the confined space of the elevator he returned to his place in front of me and deftly unzipped my skirt.  
“Fair is fair.”  
He teased and let it slide down to the floor. The moment his hands touched my panties I stilled him with a hand.  
“Fair is fair!”  
I said challengingly and his eyebrows shot up.  
“If anyone chooses this particular moment to come and rescue us, they’re really going to get an eye-full.”  
He remarked, and eased out of his underwear.

 

Supported by the wall of the elevator as my own legs would have failed me minutes ago, her fingers twisted Lay’s hair into knots, binding him to me. Not that he needed it: his face between my legs, his tongue was in turn soft and probing as he lapped at the honey trickling over my folds. Flicking against the throbbing knot between my legs at first he seemed faintly fascinated with it, suckling and I was speechless but far from silent as waves of heat and pleasure began to radiate from that spot. It felt like lava gathering in my womb; a place of scalding molten heat and when his long fingers slowly slid inside me, beginning to stretch me out it was just far too much. My orgasm was shattering; my cry almost a scream. It was the most intense, perfect thing I had ever felt in my life and oh God but it was addictive.

 

Gasping for breath, my knees like water I gazed down at him in disbelief. He smirked, chest heaving and as she gazed down his body he was so hard that he pressed straight up against his flat, muscular stomach. Flushed with colour, moisture was leaking from the tip. My mouth went dry. I was satisfied now; my body was glowing with a new, satiated languor but that harsh ache in my womb; that bone-deep need had been too deep to satisfy so easily. Gazing down at him I caught hold of his arms and pulled him up to his feet.  
“That was an impressive touch, indeed.”  
I whispered against his ear. “A touch like that does indeed invite further touches.”  
His eyes glittered like dark diamonds in the greenish light.  
“I aim to please.”  
Slipping his hand down he grasped hold of himself and guided himself between my legs. As he slowly began to push inside me I felt the familiar stretch and burn as my flesh began to accommodate his graceful length. But I was dripping wet, and his attentions made this penetration nothing but sheer bliss. Arching up to him with a gasp there was a slide of flesh into flesh and nerve endings that had lain dormant for quite a while fired into life. Lay let out a moan and buried his face against my neck. His weight was heavy on me but that was oddly exciting; this big man between my legs as I curled one of them high up above his waist. The thrust-slide of his rhythm was like a dance I instinctively recognised, and I began to arch up to meet his thrusts. Whimpers began to build in my throat as a counter-point of his bass groans, nails digging into his buttocks in some primal need to have him still deeper inside. Lay resisted.  
“I’ll hurt you.”  
“I want it!”  
I insisted, arching up against him and with a groan he gave me all of himself. I felt a dull ache as he bumped against my cervix but it was countered by some deep need finally satisfied. The pleasure was building again, not like when his tongue had been against me but deeper; slowly building but infinitely more powerful. Gasping for breath, our sweat-slick skin sliding together I felt it when he released deep inside me. It was when he slowly began to pull out, the extra stimulation on some secret spot that my own pleasure peaked. Clinging onto him with a mewl of bliss he was there to hold me through it as the climax rocked me to my very core.

 

When the engineer forced the elevator doors open at six-o-clock in the morning he found two very dishevelled, sweaty but thankfully dressed people. Curled up together in the limited floor space Lay hugged me protectively against his chest and at some point I must have fallen asleep against him. Jerking awake as electric light pierced the green-tinged darkness, squinting, we both let out short cries of relief.  
“What took you so long?”  
Lay bit out, looking up at the blue overall-clad maintenance engineer. The man bowed apologetically.  
“The warning system failed. We only just realised that this elevator wasn’t working and then I came immediately to check.”  
“Well get us out of here!”  
Grasping me around the waist he lifted me up as the engineer reached down and gripped me firmly by the hands. Hauling me up he pulled me out of the doors and onto the shiny marble floor. The breath of cool air that spilled through the corridor felt so blissful that in a moment of weakness I lay sprawled out on the floor like a starfish and focused on sucking coolness through my skin; watching anxiously until Lay had also emerged into daylight. He looked… well, I’d never seen any photos of him looking like this. Still shirtless he was crumpled, sweaty and… Jesus Christ he was the hottest thing I’d ever laid eyes on. Even the fact of what we’d just been doing didn’t help. In fact it made it worse! I knew exactly what Lay could do in bed and it gave me an unbearable itch beneath my skin for round to. Talking about appearances though… I looked down in dismay. My white blouse was a hopelessly creased mess: transparent with sweat and sticking like plastic wrap to my skin. My stockings were long since discarded and rolled up into my jacket pocket. I noticed the speculative expression on the engineer’s face. Maybe he had seen the same movies that Lay had and my mouth twitched with veiled amusement.  
“We are very sorry.”  
The engineer bowed again. “Are both of you feeling well? Do you need to go to the hospital for checks?”  
Lay looked at me in silent query and I shook my head.  
“I’m hot and thirsty but once I have a shower and lots of water I should be fine. How about you, Yixing-sshi?”  
“The same.”  
He agreed.  
“Yixing-ah!”  
We both jumped at the new voice. Three men were galloping towards us in clear agitation and Lay winced.  
“Two of our managers and…”  
And the head of recruitment, a man that I had been sitting opposite however many hours before. We were almost knocked over in the flurry of agitation that followed. Cold bottles of water were pressed upon us and I admit that I ducked it down like I hadn’t seen water in a month. While Lay was fussed over by his managers I found myself facing my interviewer once more.  
“How fortuitous to run into you.”  
He said coolly, as though he hadn’t just seen me pulled out of a broken elevator with one of his Idols, looking deeply suspicious. “It saves me the bother of a phone call.”  
A phone call? A phone call?! Did that mean…? An actual smile curved his lips.  
“Congratulations. You were impressive at interview and the team believe that you will make a valuable asset to SM Enterainment.”  
Lay’s head snapped sideways.  
“You’re going to be working here?”  
Our eyes meet and if I had any doubt about how he felt about that; a familiar devilish light began to glow in the onyx depths of his eyes.  
“It seems so.”  
I said dazedly. The very faintest smile began to tug at his swollen, reddened lips.  
“Then let me be the first to offer you congratulations.”  
He murmured. His smile widened enough to flash dimple.  
“I guess I’ll be seeing you again soon.”


End file.
